


Conflicted Looks Good On You

by goodemornting



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF, rpdr - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous/Open Ending, At least until chapter 2 ;), F/F, Fluff, Gigi Goode Is Stupid, Gigi Goode is bad at feelings, Lesbian AU, Lifeguards, Love, Mutual Pining, Pining, Rock eats noodles, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Useless Lesbians, lifeguard AU, waterparks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:02:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24922006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodemornting/pseuds/goodemornting
Summary: Crystal works as a lifeguard for the scariest ride in the entire waterpark, The Vortex of Death. Gigi hates scary things, but might make an exception just this once for the pretty woman who keeps on saving her.
Relationships: Gigi Goode/Crystal Methyd, Jaida Essence Hall/Nicky Doll/Jan Sport
Comments: 29
Kudos: 116





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been out on Tumblr for a while now but I thought I’d post it here as well because I’m planning on becoming more active eheheh :) I’d love to hear any concrit or comments, and if you liked the story maybe check out my Tumblr @goodemornting <33 Originally written for the Writethehousedown summer fic challenge

The first time Gigi met Crystal, she’d been dying. No, literally dying.

There was water in her lungs, and it felt like she was drowning from the inside. Her feet were somehow stuck to something that felt like clammy plastic, almost suffocating against her skin. The sky was blurry above in bruised shades of purple, great swathes of orange cutting across it, and it looked like the skies in those terrible indie horror movies Jackie sometimes made her watch. There was a procession of skulls above her as well, faces grotesque and grimy with tongues protruding from bony cheeks and dripping drool into a pool of flames, and Gigi couldn’t help but wonder whether the devil had finally gotten the best of her and sent her down to hell.

Her first coherent thought was thighs. Good thighs. Nice, strong, tan thighs with a soft layer of muscle. The kind of thighs she’d like to see walking around the house on lazy Sunday mornings, hugged by tiny blue shorts that covered the bottom of a tight black swimsuit that left nothing to the imagination. Water-drops clung to wet skin and ran down in interesting little rivulets, creating intricate lines that could be traced most efficiently with a tongue.

Pair of Thighs had to have a face up there somewhere, Gigi hoped, but then again this was hell so was she really sure?

She chocked at the feel of hands intertwining with her own, grip tight and unflinching as they struggled to lift her up. The gaping skulls and fire became spirals of blood-red spots, dark brown strands of hair falling around her face from the movement. She tried to breathe in and felt her lungs burn, throat tight and painful. 

A hand thumped her back hard.

Gigi sputtered, dribbling water. She almost coughed out a sentence but then someone’s mouth was on her own, knocking any coherency straight back out of her with the feel of soft lips pulling harshly to get a better grip. She startled, shoulders tensing, but her arms didn’t have the strength to pull away. She tasted sugary peaches, like the kind that filled the cakes and pastries in cafe windows, warm fingers on the back of her head offering the lightest pressure, before they pulled away with a quiet gasp. Gigi scrambled back, and in her daze, managed to kick someone squarely in the chest.

“Holy shit! Holy shit, Gigi!”

If this really was hell and peachy-thighs-girl was a demon, then Gigi was screwed because somehow she’d also brought her best friend into this equation.

“J-Jackie?”

The Persian woman crowded her field of vision, shoulders slumping in relief at the brunette’s words. She looked pale, a wet towel slung over her neck and brown eyes comically huge behind her glasses. Her hands were pressed against her face, squishing up her cheeks in nervous panic, and Gigi thought she looked like a twelve-year-old.

“Oh my god, what were you thinking? Why did you do that?” She screeched, hands clutching her heart as though it might beat right out of her chest “Did you get water in your head or something? I thought you were gonna die!”

Gigi looked back at her hazily, almost apologetic for how nervous the older woman looked. “D-do what?” The younger gasped out, shaking slightly from the cold water hugging her skin.

“Jump out of the floatie!” Jackie hissed, turning to speak to someone out of Gigi’s vision. “I’m sorry, are you all good?”

“I’m fine.” A honey voice laughed gently, breathing heavily, “Is your friend alright now?”

“She seems to be alive,” Jackie trilled, high and panicky. “And talking. Is that bad?”

“Oh, no, that’s good. Maybe you can head to the cafe, go get some sugar in her.”

Gigi floundered to sit up and get a full look of the new woman’s face, rubbing at her eyes that were stinging from the pool water. The lifeguard was still clutching her chest in pain, but her grin was square and wide and her striking orange hair was pulled back from her face in a messy ponytail. A jarringly purple headband covered half her forehead, keeping her hair off her face, and Gigi saw manicured brows, soft lips and golden, tan skin. The top lip was thicker than the bottom one, which was interesting, and the brunette told herself she was only staring because those lips had been on hers just a few moments ago.

Why? Because Gigi had - apparently, in panic - jumped off her floatie in the midst of the scariest ride in the fucking park, the Vortex of Death.

She felt her heart stop again. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, “I’m really sorry, oh my God. I kicked you. After you saved me. I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I like saving lives.” The woman grinned like it was nothing, waving a hand nonchalantly which the brunette noticed had fingernails painted in rainbow colours. “Not often that I have to climb up half the ride to do it, but it shook up my day a little.” 

Jackie tried ineffectively to dry Gigi’s hair with her wet towel, scoffing under her breath. “Don’t you usually save people lower down?”

“Yep. Most pass through the shark dive before they panic and flail and I have to go pull them out.”

Gigi frowned. “Where was I?” 

“Still in the flame thrower part.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed. At least you didn’t drown.”

Jackie was nodding, though she looked like she was trying to convince herself everything was okay more than Gigi. She still looked horrified, patting the brunette’s head with that towel and biting down on her lip so hard that Gigi was afraid she’d tear right through.

“It’s okay, honey,” The older said, patting Gigi’s chest. “You can get stuck in the shark dive next time.”

The lifeguard girl giggled loudly at that, shoulders shaking gently. Her voice was a pretty, smooth thing, sling-shotting straight into Gigi’s veins, but her laughter itself was heady and adorable. Her clothes had a burning skull with the words Vortex of Death beneath it, hardly fitting of the bright brown eyes and gummy smile the taller woman possessed. Her name-tag badge said Crystal, which was a weird one, but who was Gigi to judge? It wasn’t fair, because even in her tacky lifeguard swimsuit, Crystal looked like she belonged in a summer fashion catalog. She didn’t look real, much more suited to a beach in the Mexican coast or a hip village in the south of France or something, working on her perfect tan skin.

She certainly did not look like she should be giving CPR in a shitty water-park in a tiny corner of southern California, and Gigi was immediately mesmerised - cartoon heart eyes, dry mouth, shaky hands - the whole package.

“Do you feel like you can stand up?” Peach girl - Crystal - asked with a tilt of her head. She looked concerned, warm eyes fixed on Gigi’s own and large palm held out for her to hold. 

“Y-yeah.”

“Awesome,” She grinned. “Come on, then. Take my hand.”

The younger woman grabbed at it, ignoring the way her heart jumped at the feel of her long fingers closing around her palm, strong and promising. Crystal yanked her up and off of the concrete, catching her neatly after she yet again stumbled into her arms. Gigi gaped up at her, halfway dead again from mortification, but the tan woman’s smile was warm and kind, carving deep laugh lines into her cheeks. 

She swallowed hard and felt her insides flutter.

That had been the beginning of her doom.

***

“This line is taking forever.” 

“Stop being so impatient, let life take its course instead of trying to write it for yourself.”

“That sounds like something Crystal would say. Nicky says she’s imprinting on you,” Jan grinned when they met at the entrance to the park, under the palm trees surrounding the ticket booth. “Like baby ducks imprint on mom ducks. Only your mom is a hot lifeguard who’s mandated to wear those teeny shorts.” 

“She’s not my mom,” Gigi hissed, but Jan didn’t paying attention. “What’s up with this dumb park and teeny shorts, anyway?”

The blondes head turned as a woman passed them by, gaze lingering on the same uniform swimsuit. Gigi had been at this park enough times now to recognize the broad shoulders and dark hair of Jaida, the girl who handled the Lazy River. She spotted her sometimes with Crystal, fooling around when the crowds were less and they had nothing to do. She low-key resented the woman because it was absolutely impossible not to, Jaida was gorgeous, like, beach model, I-do-runway-shows-for-fun gorgeous, and they were super touchy and flirty and annoying all of the time. Once, at Gigi’s insistence, Nicky had asked Jaida if the two were dating. The dark haired woman’s response had been loud, deep laughter, and a pat to the top of Nicky’s head.

“Her name’s Jaida, if you want to know,” She told Jan with a frown, hoping she didn’t sound too aggressive, “She’s really pretty, huh.”

“Jackie told me her name,” Jan replied thoughtfully, craning her neck to keep gazing at the older lifeguard. “Your Crystal is pretty too. Doesn’t she sing as well?”

“She only does one direction songs,” Gigi muttered, shouldering past the older girl to pay for tickets, “She’s a real pro at those, though.”

A loud snicker from behind her told her that Nicky had joined them. “Yeah. She’s a weird one.” 

“She’s not weird,” Gigi pouted, crossing her arms, “She’s just…she’s different.”

The French woman snorted, “You act like the sun shines out of her ass.” 

The brunette pinched the bridge of her nose exasperatedly, “Why do I bother bringing you guys?” 

“Because you know it’s too lame to come to water parks alone.”

Nicky added, “Do you really think we have nothing better to do with our weekends?”

Gigi raised an eyebrow. “You really don’t.”

The French woman frowned, “Well, yeah, fair. But it wasn’t me who decided to crush on the lifeguard that strictly works at the scariest ride in the entire waterpark, while having the biggest fear of water.”

“Will you ever let that go?”

“I don’t know. You might have to actually get the girl before then.”

They passed through the entrance to the park, Gigi’s feet acting on their own as they dragged her to her inevitable destination, the stone pathway leading up to the scariest ride in the entire park. Jan giggled, “Hey, how many times do you think we’ve come here in the last six weeks?”

Gigi didn’t reply, she didn’t know if she was ready to acknowledge the number yet. She knew exactly how many times.

Twenty.

Twenty fucking times she’d come to the waterpark in the last month, and twenty fucking times she’d climbed into the Vortex with her heart beating out of her chest. It never stopped being terrifying, she never stopped feeling like she’d puke, but somehow, she’d conditioned herself at a Pavlovian level to look forward to it. 

To look forward to Crystal meeting her at the bottom of the ride, beaming smile preemptively in place and warm hands waiting to yank her out of the water.

Crystal. Gigi tried out the name nearly every day since the lifeguard had told it to her. Tonguing it around in her mouth, getting a feel for it. Crystal.

Crystal was always there, waiting at the end of the ride like a little guardian angel dressed in her teeny shorts and sometimes that purple headband, reaching out to help the hapless souls flailing in her pool after being spit out by the hell-ride.

What’s up, Gigi would ask, cool as you please. And Crystal would reply, excitedly, did you have fun? She would nod, very cool, as if she hadn’t just spent the last one minute screaming her head off like a banshee. As if she hadn’t felt her soul fly up all the way to her gullet, hanging on by a bare thread for the entire duration of the ride. How was your week, busy yeah? She’d ask, swallowing down her nausea. And Crystal would say something cute, something funny, like oh, I had to dig two people out of the slide today. No big deal.

The lifeguard always smelt like something citrusy and tropical, only slightly layered with the chemical chlorine of the water. She always had those peach-shine lips, and Gigi wondered how much lipbalm the lifeguard must go through because they’re more likely to become chapped with all the chlorine she’s in contact with. Gigi would stay for a few minutes, chatting with her, asking her things. Do you like pizza? I like pizza, and Do you like sewing? I like sewing. She learned that Crystal likes dancing, and eating Italian food. That Crystal’s accent was coloured with the heavy Spanish she picked up from growing up in Mexico. That when she wasn’t saving lives in the dumb theme park she moonlights as a bartender in some tiny club.

Crystal had come to expect her, always asking where she’d been if the brunette hadn’t shot down the Vortex and into her arms for a few days. It lit something fierce in Gigi’s heart when she did that, knowing that the older girl thought of her when she wasn’t around. She’d keep coming back, waste her money on tickets and climb into a ride that scared the living soul out of her, just to hear the older woman say ‘what have you been up to? I missed you this week.’

It was a potent sort of crush. Puppy-love strong, blood on fire, wanting-to-serenade-with-roses-and-tulips sort of thing.

Gigi was so gone.

“You okay to do the Vortex alone?” Jan asked, bouncing giddily on her toes, “Nicky and I are thinking of doing the Lazy River.”

Of course they were. They were going to spend most of that Lazy River ride falling out of their floaties and scraping their heads along the side and bumping into others - general incompetent nonsense that’d get Jaida to follow them exasperatedly along the edges of the entire course, not that Jan would probably mind that much. “Sure, try not to get yourselves killed.” What she wanted to say was please don’t go, I’m so terrified, but the idea of getting some precious alone time with a certain Tan skin lifeguard had her holding her head up confidently, walking through the fiery entrance like she wasn’t about to faint.

The line dwindled. The Vortex’s head was shaped like a screaming man, red and black striped floaties sitting in lines ready to escort people through the horror show. No matter how many times Gigi stood there, waiting to be launched down the steep throat and into the spinning, spiralling slide, she still got awful butterflies at the thought of it. There was only one more person in front of her, and then she would have to go, and the worst part of the entire ride was waiting for the safetyguard to rise and for the beep to sound and for her to be launched down that deep, dark tunnel like a rocket into space.

The person in front of her was thrown into the darkness, a shout rising from their throat like cold murder. Gigi shuffled forward, fingers tight on her floatie, and grimaced at the sympathetic attendee doing up the metal bar. Why do people make these things? Who wants to be scared out of their wits while being sling-shotted into a dark, amniotic chamber full of echoing sounds and slick, red walls? What is this fascination with knowing what it’s like to possibly be swallowed by a giant whale or something? Why are people so intensely entertained by-

“Fuck!” Her hands scrambled for purchase as she was propelled forward, the ride making a terrible screeching sound as the plastic slid against the slide. The skulls leered at her from every turn, the disgusting laughing sound that seems to have been recorded in the pits of purgatory itself cheering her on from the speakers hidden in the walls. Gigi shrieked, the sound echoing of the walls and bouncing through the chamber.

She could almost see Crystal now, a guardian angel sitting on her lifeguard chair, waiting to see whether the next rider would inevitably get stuck on the particular turn that seemed to catch everybody. “A lot of people get stuck on that part, y’know,” the tan woman had told her once. “It’s a structural defect. But most people find it hilarious and it adds to the experience, so they don’t fix it.”

Gigi hadn’t had the heart to tell her that most people probably also appreciate the sight of Crystal climbing up to get them, pole in hand, to poke them out of position. Crystal - narrow yet broad, big yet small, a mess of contradictions and odd features and little flaws brought together into the perfect person. Gigi could hardly believe she wasn’t a fever dream.

The redhead’s sunglasses were bright green and heart-shaped that day, reflecting the afternoon sun and doing wonders for her skin. Gigi barely had time to glimpse before she fell right out of her floatie and straight into the pool, the splash sound reverberating through the water. She went under and spluttered for a while, bright blue in her eyes and burning water in her throat, before familiar arms dragged her out.

“You never stick the landing right,” Crystal hummed, looking down at her through a teasing smile, “Hi, Gigi.”

“Hey,” The younger woman replied breathlessly, holding up a weak thumbs up. “What’s shaking?”

“You tell me,” The taller woman raised an eyebrow teasingly, “Pretty nasty fall you had today, looked like you were about to cry.”

Gigi pushed the hair out of her eyes, trying to appear dignified, “Are you making fun of me?”

“No,” The taller woman’s eyes widened, hands flurrying to deny the statement, “You looked graceful, almost. Very pretty. Do people tell you how pretty you are? Because I think so,” She spoke very quickly, that heavy accent dripping honey-like into every word, and Gigi could hardly catch what she was saying. That was endearing too.

Crystal’s lashes fluttered excitedly. “You’re really something, Geege.”

The brunette peered at her, trying to make out if all of this had a layer of hilarity to it. The redhead didn’t look like she was joking, just looked at Gigi - so earnest and serious, eyes round and lamp-like, a one thousand kilowatt smile. Her big, bubbly lifeguard crush. Skin all supple and tan and pretty, hair drawn back from her face, standing there knee-deep in chlorinated water fangirling over her. Gigi sort of just really wanted to kiss her head.

She cleared her throat. “I thought it was kinda weird, you know, falling off every time I get on this ride,”

“No, it isn’t! You look cool, dramatic. You look like an actress.”

“Really?”

“Really. Your clothes look cool, too.” Crystal beamed, white teeth glinting in the light. Her hands were still resting on Gigi’s shoulders, big palms squeezing gentle, so soft that a butterfly couldn’t get away with it. “You should be confident.”

“I am.”

The redhead licked her lips - a quick pink swipe, leaving her mouth glossier still. “Wow, I can’t believe I know someone so gorgeous. It’s so awesome.”

“That’s pretty lame, Crystal,” Gigi laughed, cheeks getting warmer by the second. Crystal kept smiling, starry-eyed, mouth that cool blush tone that reminded the brunette of soft, wet things. It all threw her off a bit so she asked quickly, clearing her throat once again, “Uh…how’s the Vortex doing today?”

“Five people have gotten stuck since morning,” She grinned, “One was this girl, she screamed the funniest things ‘till I got her out of there, you should have heard it. Sometimes I think people hate this ride. They do it once because it’s so famous and everyone wants to look cool, but they secretly can’t stand it. They never come back.”

Gigi glanced back at the Vortex and shivered, her heart still pounding from the twists and jumps of the tunnels packed inside. Just the sight of the tunnel behind her had her feet trembling again, stomach that much lighter at the idea of going down the slide once more. All of what the taller woman just said applied to her, too, but she’d left out the one variable that kept bringing her back.

She wondered if Crystal knew how good she looked.

“You always come back, though,” The lifeguard observed, peering around Gigi for the next person screaming their way through the chamber. “You seem to love this ride. You must be a very brave person.”

Gigi chuckled weakly, “I like to live dangerously.”

“Yeah?” Crystal lit up, clapping her hands together, “So do I! I’ve been wanting to go to the summer festival so bad. There’s a crazy roller-coaster this year, did you see it?”

She’d seen it. She’d seen it many, many times, plastered all over her Instagram feed no matter how many times she reassured the app she was Not. Interested. It was a monstrous thing, must’ve been the size of two baseball pitches, at least three times what the vortex was. Just looking at it had been enough to make her want to melt into the floor, so of course Crystal was positively enamoured by it.

“They brought it in from Australia or something. I keep asking Jaida to come with me, but she says she’s scared, which is weird because normally she’s good with this stuff-“

Sometime in between Crystal opening her mouth and closing it, Gigi had begun to nod violently. She wasn’t not sure when it started, but her mouth twisted into a warming smile without second thought. It felt like she was no longer in control of her own voice as she hummed, “I can go with you, if you want.”

The redhead looked at her, wide-eyed, a little daze of possibility sparking in her gaze. “Really?” She asked, and then frowned skeptically. “I mean you don’t really know me, and I wouldn’t want to pressure you..”

“I’d love to go,” Gigi beamed, earnest. “I - uh - I love roller-coasters. Who doesn’t?”

“Right.” Crystal brightened, cheeks puffing up from her wide smile. Excitement made her look soft, even softer, actually, lit her up from the inside like a little doll that smiles when you push at its tummy. Gigi heard a swoosh of blood rushing in her ears. “Everyone I know is so scared of it. What’s there to be scared of? You go on that thing, you have the time of your life, you feel alive. You know?”

“Alive.” She mumbled. She was still shaky from the Vortex, holding onto Crystal sneakily. She felt like death warmed over. “Alive. Yep.”

The lifeguard giggled happily. “When do you want to go?”

There came a little kick in Gigi’s gut, a last ditch attempt to get her out of something she shouldn’t be doing. “W-whenever. Monday night? I’m free.” Too bad, she had done it anyway.

Crystal near-vibrated in excitement, bouncing on the heels of her toes. “Okay! Okay. Monday night. I’ll meet you there.” Her eyes twinkled, round pupils gazing into her own more narrowed ones, and Gigi felt as though she was going to faint yet again.

The splash of someone else landing in the pool startled them both, a quiet scream following it from underwater. The redhead shot her an apologetic look - gotta go now - and padded her way over to some other flailing person, warm-voiced and gentle, smiling strongly as she helped them up.

The brunette climbed out of the pool, looking back once at the lifeguards killing grin, and then started to move towards a different ride before she made another decision she’d regret.

“Geege!” Crystal called, waving dramatically back at her, “Monday, don’t forget. It’s a date!”

Gigi nearly stumbled into a bush.

***

In all matters not involving math, scary rides, and one particular tan-skin lifeguard, Georgina Goode was very competent.

She made and designed clothing, with some help from Nicky. She liked to cook, and she liked living alone, and she liked women. She liked some fun with her sense of organization, too, so on most weekends that she didn’t have to work, she ended up in a club with Jan.

“Cute girl at eight o’clock,” The blonde slurred, happily pulling Gigi this way and that in vaguely the rhythm of whatever song was being played, “She’s been looking at you all night.”

She turned to look, but it was like her mind’s eye had shrunk to develop an omnipotent focus only on Crystal. Her gaze found the new girl and slipped away quickly, disinterested. She turned back to Jan with a shrug. “Not my type.”

“Oh, you have a type now?” The older woman’s smile was knowing, “The type that makes you go on scary rides? Loud, smiley, tan?”

Gigi shook her head, groaning, “I’m going with her to the summer festival tomorrow.”

Jan’s eyes went wide, stopping in her tracks and mouth gaping wide, “Really? You finally asked her out? Lifeguard Crystal?!”

The music changed, some pop anthem, and Jan lit up and tugged on Gigi’s arm to pull her further into the dance floor. The brunette grinned and shimmied closer. She liked dancing with Jan, because Jan was the rare breed of person who’d recite all the properties of antibiotics or whatever she was studying at nursing school while performing a slut-drop. Jan never made things weird. Even then, she was probably contemplating Gigi’s potential future with “Lifeguard Crystal” as she swayed her hips enthusiastically to the rap music.

“Well, she’s not bad looking, I guess…” The blonde teased, nudging at her shoulders.

“Are you kidding me?”

“Fine, fine. She’s fucking hot. Like. Ridiculously hot.”

“That’s more like it.”

Jan’s brows creased, offering a sympathetic smile. “But you don’t know her very well, babe. You let her scoop you out of the pool every week, that’s about it.” 

“I know her better than that girl over there you were suggesting I take home.”

“Fair point,” The blonde frowned, reaching around Gigi to grab her drink from the table. “But what if she’s…Oh, fuck it. Enjoy your date with Crystal. She of the life-giving mouth and tiny blue shorts. Just be safe, okay? Don’t forget to use protectio-”

“Yeah, well,” Gigi hesitated, dry-mouthed, ignoring the patronising tilt of the older woman’s head. “I don’t think this date is ending that way.”

The blonde narrowed her eyes, “Why? What are you two doing?” She asked skeptically, downing a sip of her vibrantly coloured cocktail.

She took a deep breath, “Going on the roller coaster at the summer festival.”

Jan spat out her drink, looking back at the younger woman with eyes the size of saucers. “What?” She spluttered, loud enough that club goers around her startled and looked in their direction. “Have you seen that thing? It’s monstrous. It’s abominable. It’s an absolute atrocity, Gigi.”

“We want to feel alive.”

“You sound pretty dead right now.”

“I know.” She sighed, hiding her face behind her palms, “She just, Crystal, she’s special, y’know? I want to impress her, and make her smile, and see her happy, and-”

“Of course you do.” Jan put her hand to Gigi’s jaw, furrowing her brows. The younger woman leaned into it, taking a deep breath. “God, it’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Maybe I just need to see her out of those shorts for once. Break the spell.”

The blonde shook her head. “It’s bad,” she whispered, patting Gigi’s cheek gently. “So bad.”

“Janet,” the brunette said hoarsely, “How much do I need to pay for you to come to the summer festival and drag my body away if I die on this thing?”

*** 

On Sunday evening when Crystal messaged her to ask ‘are we still on?’ with a flurry of heart emojis and a mermaid, Gigi didn’t have the slightest idea of how to respond.

She scowled at her phone for a minute. ‘Yes?’ She typed, and then deleted the question mark. She wasn’t a stumbling middle school girl with a painful crush on a senior way out of her league. She was smart. She was confident. 

She could do this.

‘Yes’ she sent, and then couldn’t bare to look at the phone for a while. Crystal’s reply wasn’t much to go on when she finally gained the courage to peek. “Cool,” she read aloud, turning the word about in her mouth to gauge its true meaning. “Cool.” She pouted at the lack of any smiley faces.

She let it go. Ran late anyway because she kept looking at pictures of that roller coaster and having mini heart-attacks. There was a chain lift and a steep drop and many, many points where both the contents of Gigi’s stomach and her heart were likely to leap out of her mouth.

Still. She could do this. She wasn’t a baby, she rode the Vortex of Death every week - she could do this.

Crystal’s hair was ruffled from the wind when Gigi finally caught up to her, already smelling of daffodils and ice-cream. She was finally out of those fucking shorts too, dressed all pretty in a yellow sundress and patterned necktie, still with that soft-shine balm glossing up her lips in a more shimmery colour. She wore round glasses, pushed up to the top of her head, and bunches of colourful bracelets on both hands. She looked radiant, and the brunette couldn’t help but think that her smile far outshone the twinkling festival lights surrounding them.

“You look” She swallowed. “You look nice,”

Crystal beamed back with her eyes scrunched up.“You too. Theres a penguin pin on your shirt.”

Gigi looked down, almost gasping at the sight of said penguin pin in the middle of her pale blue blouse. She hadn’t meant to wear that one, but by some psychobabble-subconscious-wizardry, she’d still managed it. It’s even a dancing penguin.

“Oh,” she chuckled, feeling slightly sick.

“It’s cute.” Crystal poked a finger at it, all easy, like all her dates turned up wearing penguins on their shirts. Gigi jolted back in surprise, shocked at the sudden contact. The redhead laughed and stuck her hands in her pockets, “Sorry. Should we go find the line for the roller-coaster?”

The younger woman squirmed a little, grimacing, “Y-Yeah,” she replied, finally, “I guess so.”

The festival was pretty and thrumming, all glimmering blue lights and palm trees, smell of tropical fruit and salt water, glitterdust. There was smoke and surfboards and the luster of gaudy-pretty streamers, fluttering silver and aqua and yellow. Spots of it constellated on Crystal’s cheeks like freckles whenever she looked up.

“I love the summer festival,” The redhead muttered in awe. “Where I grew up the carnivals were smaller than this, but it was my favorite time of the year.”

Gigi only spent the first minute feeling clammy-palmed and sick with worry, because Crystal turned out to be a ridiculously excitable person. Five steps into the festival and her hand came tight down on her wrist, dragging her off because puppies, oh my god, they have puppies, and Gigi went along because what the fuck, she liked puppies too.

The air was caramel-thick and the close press of bodies made the space hot. Crystal watched the puppies jump through loops with wet lashes and a beatific expression, fingers itching forward to grab, to hold. Gigi cooed at a fluffy poodle with curly gray fur and liquid eyes. The older woman pet the top of its head, looking overwhelmed. “I miss my dog,” she whispered quiet, and Gigi felt the sweetness in that sentiment all the way to the tips of her toes.

“Me too,” she follows, smiling softly. “Mine is so naughty, though. Not at all well-behaved like this. She’s a little ruffian.”

In some time she asked, a bit hopefully, “Are we going to stay with the puppies forever?” She wanted the answer to be yes, fuck the rollercoaster. Spending the night getting ice cream and playing with dogs sounded much better to her.

Crystal blinked, “Oh,” she replied, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly, “Oh, sorry. We should go.”

Gigi would’ve much rather stayed. But she dug this grave for himself, and now there was really no choice but to lie in it. She did manage to distract Crystal a bit more, which wasn’t much considering Crystal was extremely easy to distract.The brunette only had to wave her arms and say look over there for the tan woman to wildly pick any random direction and find something to look at. They inspect the painted surfboards and wander through a maze of mirrors. They buy a weird little ship in a bottle that Crystal randomly fell in love with. They follow loud pew-pew sounds into a neon-lit, temporarily constructed arcade, where the lifeguard demolished Gigi in some annoying car race game. There were Pokemon in the arcade claw machines that they spend a few minutes trying to win.

“I like Pokemon,” Crystal grinned, and she filed that away, thought of herself saying it to her friends - my girlfriend likes Pokemon. The redhead was focused, tongue peeking out the corner of her lips and eyes narrowed as she navigated the claw. “I have a lot of these”

“I think they’re cute.”

“You do?”

Gigi faulted, colour rushing time her cheeks. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t think you were the type of person to like plushies.”

“What type of person did you think I was?”

Crystal shrugged, not looking away from the claw. “To cool for that sort of stuff, y’know.”

“Oh.”

The older woman didn’t seem very bothered by this change in perception but Gigi was, she wanted to clarify, the itch to make herself clear rising and suffocating her until it came out in a fast, frowny rush. “I don’t think liking soft things makes you any less cool.”

Crystal glanced up, leaning forward to pat Gigi’s chest lightly. Weirdly, when she did it, it wasn’t patronising at all. Just Crystal letting you know it’s fine. “It makes you more cool, I think.”

“Cooler,” She corrected, feeling her insiders shrivel up at her lameness. “Not more cool, cooler. I mean—that is—never mind.”

Gigi felt like a little moth drawn to a lamp - herself the moth, night-black and dirty with lies. Crystal was the lamp, warm and sparkly like Christmas stars and fairy lights.

How was she going to get out of this mess.

***

The Hurricane Dominator was exactly as Jan said: an atrocity. It climbed steep above the rest of the festival, and just the one visible loop of it made Gigi want to find the nearest trashcan to hurl into. It looped and curled and the cart practically hung suspended upside down at some point. She felt the integral parts of her system begin to shut down already, but Crystal rocked back on her feet, eyes wide and fists clenched, a soft wow shaping her mouth into a little O.

When they got closer, it was obvious that the line stretched all the way around the festival. Crystal’s face dropped a little. “That’s a long queue.”

Gigi tried not to let the relief show on her face. She tugged gently at the taller woman’s sleeve. “Maybe we should go on the smaller rides...?”

“No, I can probably bribe someone into letting us cut the line.”

And she proceeded to do just that. Gigi stood back, slack-jawed, watching as Crystal walked up to a random guy and started promising him enough money for burgers and a drink. The guy grinned and hi-fived her, proceeding to give Crystal his number, and then he and his girlfriend walked right out of the line leaving space for the older woman and Gigi.

“That guy was nice,” The lifeguard smiled, off-hand, when Gigi rushed to join her. “He has a restaurant near the water park. Said he’d give me dumplings on discount if I go there.”

The brunette huts his mouth quickly, trying to hide her astonishment. “Do you.. is that how the world usually works for you?”

“What do you mean?” Crystal asked. “Oh. Yeah, I make friends fast! But look, we’re right at the front now.”

Gigi could feel herself start to sweat. Panic crawled up her spine, many-legged like spiders, locking up her muscles and breaking out of her in little shivers. She occupied herself with the mole on Crystal’s nose while she chattered happily about previous roller-coasters she’d tried. “There’s a TV show on an Australian channel that’s only about theme parks,” The redhead was babbling happily. Gigi really had to lean in to hear her over the death-screams of the people riding the Hurricane Dominator. “That’s how many theme parks they have. That’s my dream job.”

“Working in an Australian theme-park?”

“No. Having a show about theme-parks.”

“You must really like theme-parks.”

“I like all the rides except that thing that does the vertical drop,” Crystal muttered. “I’m scared of that one.”

Gigi was scared of everything. As a kid, she was scared of the fucking monkey bars in the neighborhood’s jungle gym. Now that she was older she was afraid of spiders, snakes, foreclosure, unpaid credit cards, roller-coasters, ghosts, and her own truth. If she didn’t get on this thing, how was she going to tell Crystal what she was doing visiting the Vortex of Death multiple times? She imagined that conversation: I think you’re hot, so I took the death-ride twenty-one times so you could pull me out of the pool. How’s that for a meet-cute? Her palms felt clammy and sweat beaded on her brow. 

The discomfort must’ve shown on her face, because Crystal asked, suddenly, “Are you okay?”

Gigi felt her soul slowly edge its way out of her body. “What?”

“You look pale. Are you okay? Do you want to sit down?”

She managed to hold her tongue through climbing onto their seats, and even pulled the safety-guard down. The older woman hummed contentedly, ready to go, and turned her head to look at Gigi. Her face fell so abruptly it was like she’d decelerated from mach speed to zero.

“Hey, uhm,” Crystal hissed, “you look really faint.”

“I feel—I feel like I might,” Gigi flinched at the sound of the rollercoaster creaking, “You know.”

“What?”

“Faint.”

The redhead wriggled a little in her seat. “Do you want to get off? We can get off. We don’t have to-“

“No,no, you wanted to do this.”

“I don’t want to do it if you’re scared,” Crystal whispers, eyebrows furrowing, “There are other rides. We can go on that Twisterado thing - or the Space Pistols-“

The brunette giggled, a bit hysterically. “I’m scared of all the rides”

“You’re not scared of the Vortex,” Crystal said authoritatively, reaching out to pat Gigi’s thigh. “You love that ride, this’ll be easy.”

And it was at that moment - with that syrupy-orangey light still playing on Crystal’s skin, with her brows on display and confusion clearly written on her face - that Gigi realised she really couldn’t do this. She couldn’t ride this roller-coaster. She was going to fucking die. All the energy fely sapped out of her, siphoned through some invisible port and fed to the demonic force that powered the ride.

“I’m fucking terrified of the Vortex,” Gigi gasped, death-bed-confession heavy. “I have nightmares about that thing. When I die and go to hell, all they’ll need to torture me is to make me go on that thing again and again, get me stuck in the bottom every single time, and—”

The tan woman looked like a confused puppy. “What are you talking about? You keep coming back to go on it.”

“Yeah, well.”

“I see you literally every week.”

She shuddered. “Crystal,” she whispers, holding eye contact. “I only go on it because I get - I get to see you.”

The lifeguard looked flabbergasted, eyes the size of saucers and mouth gaping wide. She opened her mouth, like she wanted to say something, and then pursed it shut again. “What?"

Gigi looked at her shoes miserably. "I only g-go on the Vortex of Death because of you. Because you-uh, you save me, and you're cute, and I...like seeing you."

Crystal blinked violently, head tilted, puzzlement spilled scatter-shot across her features. But now they were moving, the roller-coaster slowly pulling backward, and she could feel all of her insides clench up in horrific anticipation of what was to come.

“I know it’s pathetic,” Gigi mumbled, hating how small she sounded. The redhead still wasn’t saying anything. Crystal was probably too nice to say how lame this was. The brunette wanted the ride to start so her soul could fly out of her body and take her out of the older woman’s range. “It’s so pathetic. I’m sorry.”

Crystal took in a shuddering breath. She opened her mouth again.

And then - with loud music and a horrible tug at Gigi’s stomach - the ride began.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SECOND CHAPTER AHHHH!! I really didn’t think I’d continue this verse but some comments requested it and wow did it get out of hand kaksksjdj. I really hope you all enjoy!! Tysm to Roza and Lexie for betaing <33

There was a moment between the start of the music and the horrifying climb on the chain-lift where Crystal seemed to blink and come out of her stupor. She gawked at Gigi - just a momentary spark of a thing - and then - 

And then she was screaming.

Gigi was confused. She looked around aimlessly - wondering what the hell was wrong, what she’d done now, and if Crystal hated her so much for catching feelings that she’d rather just yell into the void - but then it clicked. The orange haired woman winked at her, still screaming her head off; _a terrific fucking actor_.

The ride operators looked a bit pissed when they had to come pull them out. It was a bit of an operation because the coaster stopped at an angle and there were poles involved, The Latina whispered under her breath that this was all normal procedure, and she definitely had more theme park experience so Gigi didn’t doubt her.

“Kid,” the operator asked, exasperated, fixing the older woman with a hard stare, “Why’d you get on if you couldn’t handle it?”

“I’m sorry,” The orange haired woman gasped, weepy. She leaned hard into Gigi, which was all part of the acting, she supposed, but it felt sort of nice, in a childish, bony way. “I’m sorry, I thought I could do it!“

The operator gave an irritated sigh. “Do you want to go?” he asked, turning to the younger woman. “She can wait here for you if you want to ride.”

Gigi’s whole body revolted at the suggestion. “Oh! No-no, I mean. No-“

Crystal blinked owlishly, nudging the brunette hastily, “Don’t just leave me!”

“I can’t just leave her-“

“-I’m scared, I want to sit down!”

She swallowed, “She’s scared, she wants to sit down.“

The operator rolled his eyes. He opened the exit gate for them, yelling something after them that sounded very much like "stick to the tunnel of love, idiots." Crystal kept up the swoony act right until they were a good distance from the Hurricane Dominator, heaving breathes, weak legs and all, before she straightened up and folded her arms, eyebrows furrowed and downturned in confusion.

“I don’t understand,” she said blankly, holding eye contact with a deep frown. “What do you mean you only come to the theme park to see me?”

Gigi shrugged, suddenly her coat felt a whole lot tighter. “Uh,” she said, very intelligently. There was a lot of warring feelings in her mind: relief, at being let off the ride; guilt, at having lied to Crystal; panic, at what might come next. There was just a general sponge-cake consistency to her head that made her want to stick it in sand, like an ostrich. “I just-“

“Is it like what your friends get up to with Jaida?” The lifeguard asked, and now there was something in the downturn of her mouth, soft distress, and Gigi wanted to squeeze her to apologize, to tell her no, to let her know it wasn’t not a joke. “Like-like, I don’t know, a game?”

Crystal’s nervousness was only belied in the rapid way her fists clenched and unclenched at the hem of her dress. Her face remained blank, impassive. _Good fucking actor_ , she thought, for the second time that night.

“Geege?”

There are two things here that Gigi thought she had to address, and she picked the one that was less likely to stake her through the heart. “Does Jaida think my friends are assholes for doing that? I mean -I guess they are- but they genuinely l-like her. Or at least. Looking at her. I guess? I don’t know.”

Crystal’s face dropped, “…so it’s like that,” she whispered, and the brunette swallowed down a squeak. “You just like looking at me?”

There was a loud mariachi band playing in the back of Gigi’s head - background music, to ease her heartbeat - which made it impossible to concentrate on anything the Latina was saying. She wanted to laugh, not because it was funny, it was the farthest thing from funny, but because the tension was so thick she could cut it with a knife.

It wasn’t funny. It was just that Gigi’s way of dealing with any emotion that wasn’t a neutral flatline was to laugh or hug something. Since Crystal didn’t look particularly huggy at that moment, she could already feel a nervous giggle shaping itself in the back of her throat.

“I don’t understand,” said the taller woman again, and now she sounded both earnest and distraught. “Gigi. If you’re so scared of the Vortex, and the rollercoaster, why didn’t you just tell me? Why did you go through all that? Is it a joke? Jaida says she thinks Jan and Nicky have some sort of competition between them. Is it like that with you?”

“What? No! Of course not!” A pained giggle leapt out of her mouth, impassioned. “They don’t-it-it’s not a competition.”

“So? What is it, then? Like a bet, or something?”

“I told you on the ride, Crystal. I just - I want to see you. I like seeing you.”

“You keep saying that!” The lifeguard yelled, eyes wide. “I don’t know what it means!”

 _It means I like you_ , Gigi thought, miserably, _I like you a lot_. But it didn’t come out. Her mouth felt stone hard, sealed shut. It would have been better if she had shut her mouth on the roller-coaster and just let that monster swallow her up. Whatever half-digested version of her might have staggered off it, it would still be way less pathetic than this current version.

“I really like you,” Crystal sighed, in the softest, saddest voice. “But I don’t understand this at all. If you like me, what’s stopping you from saying it?”

_I’m scared, I’m worried, she thought to herself, I’m different to what I’ve been saying I am and I’m terrified you won’t like the real me._

Gigi was silent.

Crystal continued, “And if I do - if I do understand it right - and you.. you want to be something else, then there’s something weird stopping you. This is weird. This is making me feel weird.”

When Gigi remained quiet, not sure how to unpack the situation and the Vortex situation and the fake-personality situation all in one sentence that would somehow convey her heart to the older woman. 

Crystal shook her head and rubbed unhappily at her eyes. “I don’t like feeling weird,” she breathed in, hesitating, “Not with you. So I think I should go, maybe. And I think you should stop coming to the waterpark anymore.”

_No, The brunette thought, don’t go._

There was this gulf between her head and her mouth, too large to cross. _There’s nothing weird,_ she wanted to say. _There’s no one but you_ , she wanted to say. _I can be whoever for you, she wanted to say._

Instead, all Gigi did was make a small, confused noise. It was all she had, no words left, everything in her head too loud and too big and too raw to bring out right then. And of course, that wasn’t enough for Crystal.

It was only fair that it wasn’t enough for Crystal.

So she sighed, squeezed the younger woman’s shoulder once, and said, sadly, “See you around, Geege.” Then she was gone, yellow dress and vibrant hair disappearing into the crowd, the hoarde of carnival swallowing her up in seconds.

Gigi stood there, trembling. It took a few seconds for the full force of dejection to crash into her. Then it hit her, like a rocket approaching escape velocity. Like a fucking planet approaching a singularity. Like a cannonball approaching the wall of a badly made, poorly defended fortress.

Gigi was in ruins.

She walked around in a confused stupor for a while, staring at the carnival games and the rides, prayinghoping against hope that maybe Crystal would come back. But why would she? The lifeguard thought she was playing a game with her; thought this is all some sort of exaggerated joke. Crystal probably thought she was an asshole now, for pretending to be something she wasn’t, for not being loyal to her fake-beau, for everything.

She probably didn’t ever want to see Gigi again.

So Gigi made another big fucking mistake.

She called Nicky.

***

“She said _what_?” The French woman hissed, when Gigi explained everything to her. They were in the fresh produce section of a supermarket, so she nudged her hard and put an exasperated finger to her lips. “ _She said what?_ ” Nicky whispered now, all the emotion still prevalent.

“That Jaida told her she thinks you and Jan have some sort of competition around her.”

The blonde mumbled, staring intensely at the iceberg lettuce, “Competition over what?”

“I don’t know!” Gigi giggled, nervous. “Who’s the biggest asshole to her? Who bothers her the most at the waterpark? Maybe?”

Nicky gave a guttural groan and dropped a radish into the younger woman’s basket. “Oh no,” she said dumbly, mouth open and gaping. “Oh no, I know exactly why she could have come to that conclusion. I know exactly why. I didn’t think she’d think of it that way. We were just flirting…”

“Think we all chose a goddamn weird way to flirt.” 

The French woman hummed and fell quiet. Gigi remembered Jan saying they had no groceries in the house so she loaded up on those, side-eyeing the romaine lettuce even as she dumped four bunches into her cart. Did Jan like lettuce? Had she ever eaten a lettuce?

Had either of them ever eaten lettuce?

“I don’t want to buy this lettuce,” she sighed, sadly. “But I feel like I should turn over a new leaf, since I’m already devastated, and romaine lettuce seems like a great place to start a change.”

Nicky made a face and dumped a lettuce in her cart too. “Do you think Jan would want to know?” She asked. “I mean. I’m not sure what her stand is on the Jaida thing, but as an equal contributor to this convoluted situation, do you think she deserves to bear at least partial responsibility?”

“I think she does. I think she and you should have a long conversation, and then also talk to Jaida,” Gigi paused to inspect a mushroom. “Is this venomous?”

“Does it bite?”

“It’s a fucking mushroom.”

“Then it’s poisonous,” The Blonde’s tone was placid. “Okay, I’m going to put seventy percent blame on Jan so I can feel better about myself. What about you? What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Gigi groaned, morosely. “Eat this mushroom. Pretend I’m moony in love with my fake girlfriend.”

Nicky stared at her phone a minute. “I’m texting Jan now.”

This texting apparently grew to a full-blown conversation, because Nicky was still furiously typing as Gigi rolled her cart glumly to the counter. The cashier gave her a bored, soulless stare, raising a judgy eyebrow at the amount of green shit she was purchasing.

“I’m becoming a better woman,” Gigi told her, tossing arugula under the barcode scanner. “It’s this whole self-reinvention thing. You know?”

“-Jan,” Nicky whispered angrily behind her, a Coke can clutched so tight in her hand that the brunette was sure it was going to spew everywhere any minute. “Janet, no-“

“What? What’s she doing?”

“I don’t know, she’s calling Jaida. I didn’t even know she had her number,” The French woman threw her hands up in panic. “She’s like the fucking Energizer bunny. All fire and fury, very poor impulse control.”

Gigi jerked her shoulder in dejected apathy. “Well, we’ve already dug our graves. You might as well try to dig yourself out.”

Nicky was jittery all the way to the car, gaping at her phone and going _non, non, non,_ in an increasingly horrified voice. Gigi was thinking slow, circular thoughts about putting herself back into the Vortex, but blindfolded, so it was clear to all parties involved that it was just pure self torture. Maybe Crystal would take pity on her then, and allow her to explain. She fished out her phone, she had taken Jackie’s suggestion and wrote down on her Notes app exactly how she wanted to explain. It had taken her almost two hours to weed out the more emotional sounding sentences, all of her intestines tangling together at the thought of ever saying any of those out loud. By the end she thought she had a document that somewhat preserved her leftover scraps of dignity. It detailed out her really weird inability to handle sudden stressful situations, how she tended to be more focused on anything but romantic feelings and extended thoughts on exactly how adorable the combination of Crystal and puppies was.

It was nine pages long.

“ _Merde_ ,” whispered Nicky, staring blankly down at her phone. “ _Merde, merde, merde_.”

“What?”

“Jaida’s coming over for dinner.”

“What!?”

“Jan invited her,” The older woman mumbled. “For a peace talk. Fuck .”

Gigi made a face, fumbling for the car keys in her jean pocket. “Good luck.”

“What? No - listen, we have to host it at you and Roxanne’s place.”

“Absolutely not.”

Nicky rolled her eyes. “Peace-talks have to be held at a peaceful location! And either way, my house is basically just the studio, you know Jackie wouldn’t let us in after the milkshake incident and we’re not letting Jaida Essence Hall into Jan’s apartment. You two are neat! You have plants, and curtains, and like a water supply and stuff.”

“And lots of anime figurines, but yes.” Gigi looked down at her cart, failing to scrounge up her indignant face. “Fine,” she groaned, too tired to argue, rubbing her fist over her face. “Fine. How do you think Jaida Essence Hall feels about garden salads?”

***

Jaida showed up wearing an extremely bemused expression, a tight fitting trench-coat and rimmed glasses that looked unfairly good on her. She gave Gigi an appraising look as she took off her shoes, and the brunette wondered what Crystal might’ve told her. They seemed close, didn’t they? Gigi often saw them working at the same pool, giggling together about some of the patrons. She wanted to ask, the words at the tip of her tounge, but then Jaida smiled a wry little smile and her thoughts plunged into a very early demise.

“I brought some noodles,” The older woman grinned, holding up a container. “since this was such a quick decision and all.”

Rock, midway through microwaving some old, dry rice, let out a little whoop of delight from the kitchen. She bounded out to where the other two woman stood in the hallway, greeting their guest with a firm handshake and bright, bouncy grin. “Bless your beautiful heart. Nicky tried to make pasta, but it was the wrong kind, so she flipped out and ran away. Oh, hullo, by the way. I’m Roxanne, but since you’re pretty so you can just call me Rock, the only truly non-partisan party in this entire situation.”

“Great to meet you, Rock,” Jaida smiled, and then looked around, curious. “Um - where are Nicky and Jan?”

“In the bedroom,” The Filipino answered, blandly. “Rehearsing.”

The oldest woman’s eyes narrowed, “Rehearsing?”

“What to say to you.”

“Ah.” Jaida shook her head, and stepped up to the dining table. “While they do that, could you perhaps take a non-partisan stance and explain to me what the fuck is going on?”

Rock threw a glance at Gigi, and then towards the bedroom. Then she said, shrugging, “Two of the idiots like you, but they don’t know what to do about that, so they guessed they’d just keep bumping into you until some sort of cosmic intervention occurred. This idiot right here has been buying waterpark tickets for months to see lifeguard Crystal, she of the tiny-shorts and life-giving mouth, finally managed to score a date with her, but fucked it up because she’s a lying liar,” 

Rock paused to roll her eyes hard at Gigi, poking out her tongue. “Is there anything more? Oh! Also! Guess who’s been made to go on rides I don’t want to go on? _For company’s sake, Rock. Please just come with me this one time, Rocky. Just one more time, Rockstar._ Gigi owes me two new video-games and a whole deli worth of meat. Do you want to see a garden? I currently have one in my refrigerator! Do you have rabbits? Because my veggie drawer is rabbit heaven just because everyone thought you were a heath nut-“

Gigi scowled, clearing her throat. “Salads are good for you, you know.”

“Y’all…” Jaida’s wry little smile grew into full-on amusement. She tilted her head towards the younger woman, eyebrows raised in mirth as she asked, “Are you okay?”

Gigi was not okay. She was trying to seem chill, and interesting, and possibly dating material to Crystal, and now she was just embarrassed and irritated.

Jaida’s smile grows kinder. “You really bought park tickets for months? Just to see Crystal?” 

Gigi squeaked miserably.

Rock snorted. “They all did,” she said. “Geege is terrified of that ride. She thinks she’ll die each time she gets on it. She just does it for Crystal. Because then she has a sorry excuse to hang around and talk to her. For Nicky, Lazy River really is her kind of thing, but she’d honestly not be in an amusement park at all. Come to think of it, this is the most tan she’s ever gotten in her life. She could have ran for French Edward Cullen before, now look at her!”

“Chile.. And here I thought they just liked the Lazy River a lot,” Jaida chuckled, smirk stretching lazily across his face. “Or that they had some sort of dumb bet going on.”

“Jan would do dumb bets,” Rock agreed, fairly. “But Nicky is too edgy.”

“I’ve been poking them with poles out of sticky corners for months now!” Jaida sighed exasperated. “They couldn’t just think of, I don’t know, talking to me?”

The pink haired woman leaned back against the kitchen counter, one shoulder roserising in a shrug. “I mean, you are you. Have you seen your face?”

“True, but, I’m more than my face,” Jaida laughed, her voice pitched a little loud, for Jan and Nicky’s benefit. “And if they’d asked, I’d have showed them the things I really like doing. Like my fashion sketches! Or my dog. Or my tomato plant.”

“Woah,” Rock narrowed her eyes theatrically, “could it be possible that it was that easy?”

“Of course it was. If only I was asked—”

Jan and Nicky spilled out of the bedroom, a tangle of limbs. Jaida quirked one perfect eyebrow up, staring them down like a bull in a ring, glowering and merciless. 

“Hi, Lifeguard Jaida,” The blonde started, awkwardly. “Uh- I’m - I really want to see the dog, and-“

Nicky elbowed her hard. “What she means to say is, Jaida, we’re sorry we made you think we were messing with you, and-“

“-and interrupting you at your workplace,” Jan completed, wide-eyed. “That wasn’t cool of us. But what would be cool is going to like a fashion show with you-“

“—and food, food is cool too. I wanted to cook but I got the wrong pasta, I’m sorry, I’m a fake French, but maybe we can all go out sometime? On a date?”

“Pasta is Italian..”

“Shut up Gigi.”

Jaida looked at them thoughtfully. “What, with the both of you?”

Nicky and Jan stared at each other, flushing a furious red. The youngest woman sputtered out, “We-we guess?”

“Hmm,” The brunette hummed, but she doesn’t sound very averse. “ Hmm.”

“Three is a good number!” Nicky blurted, then looking horrified at herself. “I mean - the life-raft on the Lazy River fits three, so…”

“Because the life-raft on the Lazy River is a good metaphor for life in general?” Jaida laughed heartily, folded her arms. “I guess we could get some dinner together. See what happens.”

Through the cacophony of Nicky and Jan collapsing bonelessly into the wall and Rock cackling loudly over a bowl of noodles, Jaida turned to Gigi with a diluted grin.

“So what’s your story?” she asked, “What did Rock mean, what’d you lie about bitch?”

The brunette gulped. “Oh,” she started, quietly. “That.”

***

The address Jaida had given her last night turned out to be that of an art studio.

Gigi arrived there surreptitiously — taking the subway and then a bus, face hidden under one of Nicky’s berets, eyes darting about nervously as she tried to locate the exact building. In her hands she clutched a printed version of that nine-page long note, which she had to hold really tight so she didn’t completely freak out and just throw it at Crystal when she finally saw her. Her legs felt heavy, like they were being weighed down with lead, and she thought thrice of just turning, giving up and going home to play smash brothers with Rock over a tub of icecream and disappointed tears.

Gigi didn’t like conflict. Especially not with people she liked.

And the thing was, she realised, she liked Crystal very much. She liked her so goddamn much. She liked how cheerful Crystal was rescuing people. She liked how she cocked her head when she listened; how her eyes lit up whenever she saw something cute; how her voice had been so honey twinged and caramel-sweet when she said Gigi was cool, just a few nights ago.

Gigi wasn’t cool — she was about as cool as a washed-up, twisted rug at the corner of the washing machine. The one that you forget every-time you put out the laundry and have to go back for.

But she’d liked Crystal saying it all the same.

She located the studio and stumbled through the door. The lady at the reception was polite — said they only had one event scheduled today, something with a bunch of little kids from a local school. She pointed Gigi to the third floor and she went on her way, confused. Jaida had told her that she’d find Crystal here today; that contrary to belief, the theme park wasn’t the be-all and end-all of Crystal Elizabeth. She does half a dozen jobs, The older woman had told her last night, Saving up for a degree or something. Which made Gigi feel even worse. Caught up in her lies and her pretenses, she’d only ever managed to get the smallest of personal details from Crystal. And look where that had got her.

Crystal thought she was a liar, and a heartless one at that. Crystal thought Gigi was playing games with her.

When all the while, Gigi had been caught up on her — on lifeguard Crystal. Caught on hook, line, and sinker.

The lift opened to a wide, glassy space so loud and so messy that the brunette nearly fainted. There were pudgy little hands and little shoes strewn everywhere. There was paint strewn on the floor, on faux-walls that had been put up for the express purpose of that exercise, on the kids’ hands, on their gloves. There was jars and jars of paint spread around, and the children were dipping their fingers in it, screaming and laughing as they draw splodgy pictures all over the wall.

Crystal stood in the midst of it, no brush and no canvas, just paint-splattered hands and the widest grin on her face. She was wearing a green poncho-like thing over her t-shirt and jeans, already covered in spots of every color of the rainbow, orange hair pulled back from her face by a patterned scrunchie. “Kids, kids!” she called, and they all swarmed around her, giggling and chattering, “Look, I’m gonna make Peppa pig!”

She was quick and undetailed — drawing right on the wall, quick swipes of her fingers making up the rough shape of a pink blob. Gigi cringed a little from the amount of paint that sprayed when the kids try, sticky reds and blues all over the older woman’s pants when they tugged with their little fingers to show her their creations. She leaned nonchalantly against the wall just outside and watched. It was oddly calming, she realized, watching how endeared Crystal clearly was by children — she gaped wide-mouthed at their cuteness all the time, smudged bits of paint on their noses, ruffled their hair, and complimented their Peppas. She was so engrossed in it, occasionally calling a gathering to show them how to draw a flower or a rainbow or a little kitten, guiding without being enforcing.

It took her more than fifteen minutes to even spot Gigi, clearly too deep into this, and when she did, she had to blink a bit like she wasn’t sure what she was seeing.

“—Geege?”

Gigi smiled at her, watery. It felt hard. It felt stupidly hard to just do this, to just talk. Crystal had looked like she was having so much fun just a minute before, but now her face was frozen in confusion.

“Hey, Crystal.” Gigi gulped, “Jaida told me about this place, said I might find you here.”

“Oh,” The orange haired woman paused. She makes a weird abortive shrug like she wasn’t sure what to do. “Uhm.. Do you want to come in and paint?”

“Huh,” Gigi muttered, squeezing her hands. She didn’t like messy things, often, and she was unsure about her thoughts on kids. They were just so fast, and so sneaky sometimes, and they threw things everywhere and…

Crystal looked at her expectantly. “We have extra pairs of clothes at the back there. Y’know, so you don’t ruin your nice things.”

Gigi let her breath out in a whoosh. “Yes! Okay! Great. I want-I want to.”

A very small smile. The Latina jerked her head a bit, like _come on in_ , and Gigi went because what else was she supposed to do? Crystal was magnetic even with sunflower yellow swooshed across her cheeks. If Gigi wasn’t two hundred percent certain paint tasted horrible, she’d want to kiss her.

She still wanted to kiss her anyway, actually.

When she changed out of her clothes to wear the ugliest cargo pants, a paint-splattered black shirt, and one of those shapeless ponchos, she stepped back into the studio to realize that Crystal had moved on to painting little landscapes.

“Here, look, I’m making a mountain,” she beamed, and the kids giggled at the gray splotches she made. “Whoops, looks nothing like a mountain...yet. Hey, Alice, what do you think we should do?”

The kid, Alice, tiny and wide-eyed, clambered up on Crystal’s lap and dabbed white on top of the gray. “Snow!” she shouted happily, “Make snow.”

“Okay, snow. How about we put some flowers, here, at the bottom?” The lifeguard asked, and then spotted Gigi. “Do you want to help me make some flowers?”

Which is how she ended up painting a line of little flowers along the walls. The kids came to peek, and some of them brought paint over and try to make what Crystal was calling flower garden - just a whole bunch of finger-painted flowers on one side of the wall. It was very tactile, Gigi thought - coolness of paint even through her gloves, the rough wall against the tips of her fingers, the way she could feel what she made through myriad textures. She started off stiff and angled at perfection, careful to wipe off any extra paint, making all her petals the same size. But then she got that the point of the exercise wasn’t that at all. 

The point of it was fun, just like the point of the roller-coaster was supposed to be fun before Gigi messed that up with her overthinking. So she followed Crystal’s lead, just doing whatever she wanted, telling the kids little stories when they came by, letting them giggle and clutch at her and show her their own pictures. She helped the Latina draw a giant pink Peppa Pig, laughing as they kept getting the snout entirely wrong and the kids all launched into a volley of complaints.

Crystal turned to her, eyes in little crescents of joy, bumped her shoulder and asked, “This is fun, right?”

Gigi flicked a bit of paint at her, all easy. “Yeah!” She hummed, because it was true for once, because it was fun, because she liked the kids and she liked the textural joy of the whole activity and she liked watching big, buoyant Crystal clearly having the time of her life.

There was a speck of paint on the lifeguards neck, bright blue against her tan skin. Gigi rubbed it off before she could think twice, fingers brushing at the older woman’s neck gently before she realised just what she was doing, and then Crystal stared at her, and Gigi stared dumbly back, and it suddenly felt as though the kids had multiplied and the room was ten times more crowded then before.

The orange haired woman asked, on a small swallow, “Why did you come here, Gigi?”

“I wanted to explain,” She sputtered, absently flaking the blue from her finger. “You know. About what happened.”

Crystal looked away for a minute, gaze wandering skywards, but her expression was soft. “Okay,” she said finally. “Do you want to get lunch?”

***

Lunch was complicated.

Crystal said she’d take her to the place where she moonlighted as a bartender some nights. It was nearby and it was cheap, and she said she got employee discounts. Gigi agreed because she would follow the lifeguard anywhere at that point, clutching her 9-page essay, all her truth aching to spill out of her. But then they got there, and the place was closed, so Crystal sort of looked sideways and up, and then pointed to a building. 

“I live there,” she said quietly. “Do you want to just come up and order takeout?”

So that’s what they did. Gigi wasn’t going to lie: her insides were two seconds away from imploding from her nervousness. Restaurants were public spaces - there were other people to look at, distractions in the form of food,waiters and menu cards, excuses in the form of bathroom breaks and easy escape routes through the back.

Apartments were…not any of that.

Crystal’s face suddenly twisted in understanding. “Oh, no pressure, though,” she chuckled, awkwardly. “I mean—I don’t want you to come up if you feel uncomfortable. I was just suggesting—you know—for convenience?”

“No, no. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Gigi plastered a smile on her face. “It’s fine, really,”

Crystal looked unsure, but started walking anyway. “If you say so.”

It wasn’t fine, not initially, just Gigi saying things because she was scared again. Crystal’s place was small but very airy, and she had a little glass terrarium with a lizard (NOT good) who she seemed to love to coo over (Good). She had yellow curtains and a whole bunch of poinsettias in pots, which she said came from the previous tenant. 

She wasn’t very neat - Gigi spotted a bunch of unfolded laundry in the corner and there was at least three muddy shoes in the tiny hall - but it was a warm, friendly space nevertheless; cluttered with funny little curios like snow-globes and Pokemon capsule toys and other errata that just screamed Crystal. She had a lot of comic books that Gigi gawked at curiously, not knowing enough to strike up conversation on them, instead pointing and saying “These look cool.” When Crystal smiled like that - eyes barely open and front teeth tugging at her lip, she looked younger than she was like a bit of a gentle troublemaker.

So of course Gigi had to try to keep that smile on her face, mimicking the poses that the heroines did on the front covers, giving playful finger-guns at Crystal and beaming uncontrollably when it makes her laugh.

“Wow, you look good, honestly.” She chuckled, nearly mumbling it, and Gigi felt herself flush red. “You could be, like, a model maybe.” 

“You said that before, at the pool,” The brunette waved her off and fell into a sofa chair peacefully, which she scooted down very surreptitiously away from leaping distance of the lizard in the terrarium. “It’s because my mom likes taking photos, it’s nothing serious.”

“Oh, no, I bet you could be really famous,” Crystal grinned, sounding like she meant it. “You’re so good and you’re pretty, you’ll totally make it.”

Something soft stuck in her throat. “Thank you,” she smiled, gently. “I like posing, I guess.”

“I can tell! Your whole face lights up.”

Gigi took a deep breath. “Yeah,” she started, “I like sewing, too. And I like watching romance movies. I don’t like scary things —like ghosts, or snakes, or lizards…”

Crystal’s gaze flicked imperceptibly towards her terrarium, but she nodded, sitting up, folding her arms softly in her lap.

“I like the color red, and I like soft things, but I don’t like very loud noises or anything that goes too fast. Like roller coasters, or scary thrill rides,” she was looking less at the Latina now and more at her purse, in which she knew that nine-page essay resided. If she choked up, she was going to have to look. But the way Crystal was looking at her, eyes big and lower-lip bitten, nodding earnestly along to everything she was saying, makes the words somewhat easier. “I don’t like things that scare me, but I like you, a lot. I like you, so I just sort of pretended to like the things you like, because I just wanted to see you more. Outside of that park. And more often. I just wanted..well, this. To talk to you, and to go out with you. And stuff.”

Crystal had a small frown on her face when Gigi was done. The pillow she was clutching was shaped like Bulbasour, her nails digging in so tight that Bulbasour looked like he’d been put through a food processor. “But,” she whispered “what about-“

“I like you.” Gigi said loudly, exasperated, throwing her hands up frustrated, “I like you as in, please go on a date with me because I want to kiss you. That type of like.”

Crystal’s mouth dropped open. “ _Oh_ ,”She whispered. “ _Ohhhh_.”

Then she seemed to switch off, eyes glassy. Gigi squirmed, nervously, not wanting to rush her, but the lifeguard literally seemed a million miles away. She was probably playing through mental footage of every stupid thing Gigi had ever said. “You liked me. This whole time. That’s why you kept coming,” The older woman gaped, slow and revelatory, even though the revelation was only really for her because anyone else could’ve seen it from a mile away. “You like..oh! Okay!”

Gigi sighed, bodily. “I know it’s stupid, Crystal! I should’ve told you! I just - I panic, and when I panic..”

Crystal put a finger to her lips, smile spread all the way across her face. Gigi gulped, hands shaking the tiniest bit. The lifeguards hair was all soft and still damp from the shower at the studio, falling in her eyes and framing her face with deep orange strands. Her lips were that same slick peach-gloss color she always wore, the mole on her lip showing prominent even through the shine. Her face was blank - emptied of expression; a bare canvas for whatever might come next. For whatever Gigi was about to tell her.

“Crystal,” She started, stopping when the Latina’s fingers threaded through hers gently. Her hands were strong, heavy, soft to hold. Gigi didn’t want to let go. Didn’t want to be scared. Not of her.

“You really took the Vortex twenty two times, just to see me?” Crystal asked, teasing. “Wouldn’t just asking me on a date have been a little bit easier, maybe?”

Gigi squeezed her hands. “I mean,” she whispered, on a sharp exhale, “Maybe a _little_ …”

“Just a little?”

“Ah, you’re going to be a brat about this, aren’t you?” Gigi rolled her eyes, and Crystal grinned, cheeky and sweet. The younger woman looked at the flicker of mischief in her eyes and wanted to screech. Instead, because Crystal was right there, big and soft and smoochable, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Her lips only grazed against her hair, but Crystal looked up, immediately, that same excited buzz in her as before.

Her fingers tightened their hold on Gigi’s.

“Okay. Is this okay?” She asked, nervously, extricating one hand and reaching up to cup her palm to Gigi’s jawline. “Can I - can I kiss you?”

Gigi nodded dumbly, holding her breath, and then had to let it out in a panicked rush when Crystal tugged her close by the collar to press a chaste kiss to her mouth. She pulled back almost immediately, looked at the brunette’s face and grinned, surging forward to kiss her again. It was sweet, searching - Gigi slipped a hand into the Latina’s hair and didn’t think too much before she reached for another one.

“Okay,” Crystal whispered, breathy, after a few minutes. “Holding hands, kissing, what else do you like doing with your girlfriend?” Gigi didn’t tense at the title, instead beaming brightly. Crystal threw her arms around Gigi’s neck, pulling her down so the younger woman was leaning on the chair with her forehead pressed up against her own. She was close, and she felt so warm, so nice to hold, and Gigi felt all sunshiney inside, the exact bright yellow of the sunflowers she’d drawn in the painting class and the dress Crystal had worn to the summer festival.

She pressed a kiss to the lifeguards nose, making her giggle, “Everything,” she breathed against her lips, correcting herself hastily, “Everything _but_ the Vortex of Death.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS DONE! If you liked this fic please do leave a comment as it really does motivate me ehehe and also check out my tumblr @goodemornting!


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